The Reckoning

Kerry Kaya

Description

The brand new action-packed gangland thriller from Kerry Kaya!

An eye for an eye…

Once the top dog, Danny Mckay has walked away from his old gangland life. He’s on the straight and narrow now, looking forward to settling down and living a quiet life.

But trouble seems to follow Danny. And when his own family is caught up in a shocking event, Danny is dragged back into the gangland world, hell bent on revenge.

Danny’s determined to make someone pay, but the rules are different this time around - old friends are enemies, and Danny doesn’t know who he can trust.

And as Danny gets closer to the truth, he realises that the consequences of his own actions could destroy everything - and everyone - that he loves.

Don't miss the shocking climax to the Carter Brothers series and another gripping gangland read from bestselling author Kerry Kaya!

Sujets

• Policier & Thriller
• Policier
• Thriller
• Vie de famille
• Relations familiales
• Soutien psychologique et conseils familiaux
• Mashups
• Psychological
• Women Sleuths
• Private Investigators
• Hard-Boiled
• Amateur Sleuth
• Traditional
• Conflict Resolution
• Thrillers
• Coming of Age
• Suspenso
• Friendship
• Dating
• Street crime
• Psychological thriller
• Domestic
• Violent crime
• Corporate crime
• General officer
• Psychology
• Organized crime
• Espionage
• City Life
• General
• Crime
• Family Life
• Suspense
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Boldwood Books
• Date de parution: 11 mai 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781801629331
• Langue: English

Extrait

THE RECKONING


KERRY KAYA
For Elizabeth
CONTENTS



Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Epilogue


Acknowledgments

More from Kerry Kaya

About the Author

About Boldwood Books
1

Simon Treverne, better known as Skinny to his friends, clattered against the brickwork of the Spotted Dog public house in Barking with such force that his collar-length dreadlocks whipped across his face, stinging his cheeks. Not only had the unprovoked attack knocked the breath right out of him, but his pride had also been dented in the process. ‘Leave it out, man,’ he bitterly complained, ‘there’s no need for this.’
‘Then stop fucking me about,’ Joey Mann snarled. ‘You told me you knew where to find him.’
‘I do,’ Skinny protested, blinking rapidly as beads of perspiration broke out across his forehead. Even before he’d been shoved against the wall, he’d had more than just an inkling that Joey’s patience was beginning to wear thin, and who could blame him? This was the fourth pub he’d dragged Joey and his sidekick Carlos Christos into, and so far there had been no sign of his pal Aaron Garner. ‘He’s around here somewhere.’ Skinny gasped in an attempt to fill his lungs with much-needed oxygen. ‘It’s giro day,’ he said matter-of-factly, ‘where else would he be?’
Throwing Skinny away from him, Joey straightened up. Like Carlos, he was a tall, well-built man and the muscles beneath his linen shirt bulged from a combination of steroid use and the many hours he put in at the gym. ‘Then you’d best find him and pronto because I’m not here to play poxy games.’
Skinny smoothed down his crumpled shirt, his dark brown eyes scanning the busy high street. Nestled amongst the various takeaways and chicken shops were a variety of pubs, bars and restaurants. As far as he knew, Aaron could be in any one of them. He slipped his hand inside his trouser pocket and pulled out his mobile phone, hoping by some miracle that the device had somehow sprung to life. No such luck, the battery had drained hours ago, and with no way of contacting his friend, the only alternative left open to them was to trawl every pub and club within a five-mile radius on the off-chance they might stumble across him.
‘Well, come on then, get a move on.’ Joey clenched his jaw. ‘I haven’t got all night,’ he hissed through gritted teeth.
There was something about Joey and his friend Carlos that made Skinny feel uncomfortable – out of his depth, even – and it wasn’t just the fact that they were big men who could obviously take care of themselves. No, it was much more than that. There was a coldness about them, he could see it in their eyes, their stance, the way they spoke, and above all else, he didn’t trust them as far as he could throw them; considering his slight frame, he had a sneaking suspicion that wouldn’t be very far.
Wearily, Skinny sighed, and as he trudged along the high street in the direction of the next pub, he silently cursed his mate. This was all Aaron’s fault. If it hadn’t been for him and the murderous plan he’d concocted, he would never have had to seek out Joey in the first place.



* * *
Lined up on the bar in front of Aaron Garner were three shot glasses filled to the brim with tequila. He was a handsome man with tanned skin, dark cropped hair and an athletic build. In quick succession, he downed the drinks and as the alcohol burned the back of his throat, he screwed up his face, took a deep breath, then gave a satisfied shake of his head.
‘Same again,’ he instructed the barmaid.
Within minutes, three filled shot glasses were placed in front of him and, digging his hand into the pocket of his denim jeans, he pulled out the money to pay.
‘They’ve already been paid for.’ Leaning across the bar with her ample cleavage thrust towards him, the barmaid shouted to be heard above the music.
‘Paid for?’ Aaron narrowed his eyes. ‘Who paid for them?’
The barmaid gestured behind him. Aaron turned in his seat and scanned the crowded club. Seconds later, he shook his head and laughed. ‘You fucker.’
With his arms outstretched, Skinny flashed a lopsided grin that showed off a set of crooked white teeth.
‘Where the fuck have you been?’ Aaron asked.
‘Been looking for you, man.’ Skinny pulled his friend into a bear hug. The white cotton shirt he was wearing was at least two sizes too big and hung off his body, emphasising his slim frame. ‘Got a couple of geezers here who want to meet you,’ he said, jerking his head behind him.
Looking past his friend, Aaron eyed the men with interest. Whoever they were, they were lumps, and experience told him that their bulked-up physiques hadn’t only come from their use of a gym. No, he’d bet his life on it that steroids, or roids as they were more commonly known on the street, had played a major part in the fact that they were both built like brick shit-houses. ‘Who are they?’ he asked with a flick of his head.
‘They’re the ones I was telling you about.’ Lifting his eyebrows, Skinny leant in towards Aaron’s ear so that they could speak in private. ‘The ones who can supply you with the shooter.’
As he continued to study Joey and Carlos, Aaron had to admit that he was impressed his pal had actually come through with the goods. Bringing the shot glass up to his lips, he knocked back the tequila, then afforded the men a bright smile. ‘In that case, fellas,’ he said with a knowing wink, ‘let me buy you both a drink.’



* * *
The next morning, not only did Aaron’s head feel as though it were in a vice, but as he cautiously opened one eye, a wave of nausea coursed through his body, making him lurch onto his side. The sight of an empty tequila bottle and the smell of a disregarded takeaway container on the floor beside him brought vomit flooding into his mouth.
Leaping off the sofa, he ran into the kitchen and, with barely enough time to swipe the crockery out of the sink, he promptly vomited up the contents of his stomach. The lingering stench of alcohol and greasy fried chicken made him heave even harder and, gripping the worktop, he took a series of deep steady breaths before spitting out bile and the remnants of the meal he’d eaten the previous evening.
‘Fuck me, man, you were on fire last night.’
Aaron turned his head, his bloodshot eyes narrowing on his friend.
‘Last night,’ Skinny reiterated. In his hand, he held a leftover chicken leg and, tearing off a chunk of meat, he chewed noisily, oblivious to the grease smeared across his chin and lips. ‘I ain’t ever seen you so wasted.’
Filling a pint glass with cold water, Aaron gulped the cool liquid down in a bid to quench his thirst. On the stereo, Dr Dre blared out. Aaron turned to peer through the haze of stale cigarette smoke and raised his eyebrows questioningly.
‘They didn’t come back,’ Skinny confirmed, his mouth still full of chicken. ‘They said they’d meet up with us later today and discuss the plans.’ He dropped the stripped chicken bone into a plastic carrier bag that served as a makeshift bin, then wiped his greasy lips and fingers on a tea towel.
Aaron nodded. From somewhere at the back of his drink-addled memory, the events of the previous evening came rushing back to the fore. Not only had he been wasted but he’d snorted enough coke to make a sniffer dog piss itself with excitement.
‘Are you still up for it?’ Skinny asked. ‘I mean, it’s not too late to call everything off if… you know… that’s what you want,’ he hastily added.
Aaron switched off the stereo. ‘What do you think?’ he asked, glancing over his shoulder at Skinny. ‘That bastard deserves everything he has coming to him; he left me high and dry, and you fucking know it. It was too much trouble for him to even visit me when I was inside; do you really think I’m gonna forgive or forget something like that in a hurry?’
Skinny gave a noncommittal shrug; Aaron’s hatred of his father Moray Garner was nothing new. Even before he’d been sent down for fourteen years, he’d resented his dad. ‘What about Colm?’ Skinny asked, referring to his friend’s younger brother. ‘He ain’t gonna be happy about this, man.’
For a moment, Aaron’s expression softened. Out of the two of them, his brother had always been a lot closer to their father and Skinny was right, Colm wouldn’t be happy. In fact, he’d be devastated. As far back as he could remember, his father Moray had preferred Colm over him. Oh, he’d never outwardly said as much, he hadn’t needed to, from day one his dad had made it glaringly obvious that he favoured his brother. In Moray’s eyes, Colm could do no wrong – even when they’d been caught dealing ecstasy tablets, his dad had deemed Colm blameless. And then, on his release from prison, his father had point blank refused to help him out in any way, shape or form. Yet Colm, the golden child, hadn’t been subjected to the same harsh treatment; he’d waltzed out of prison and straight into employment. Admittedly, it was only a shitty bar position at their father’s club, but at the end of the day, it was still a job. ‘He’ll get over it,’ Aaron snarled, ‘and if he doesn’t then that’s his fucking look out.’
‘And what about Danny?’ Skinny asked, referring to Moray’s business partner Danny McKay. ‘He’s not gonna take this lying down, you know he ain’t, he’ll want revenge, he’s gonna hunt us down.’
Aaron gave a nasty chuckle. ‘Let him,’ he answered. ‘He’s an old man; what the fuck is he gonna do?’
Skinny gave a weary sigh. Danny McKay not only had a reputation as a hard man, but he also had a formidable temper on him, one of which Skinny didn’t exactly feel overjoyed at the prospect of being on the receiving end. Pausing to light a joint, Skinny squinted through the curling smoke. ‘I